


A Flash of Red

by aisforamicable



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dystopia, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry would look good with a red head, I wrote this on wattpad and now we out here, I’m so bad at tagging, New York City, Romance, ahhhhh, mostly harry pov, no smut because idk how to write that so help, the other boys are in it but not a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisforamicable/pseuds/aisforamicable
Summary: A present day dystopia sweeps across the United States as a group known as The Containers seek to end all those associated with the country. Just as One Direction are about to leave New York, the first attacks on US soil begin and they are confined to an underground bunker. Harry Styles wanders outside of the bunker and nearly straight into the arms of The Containers. Before he can process what is happening, he is dragged deep into the heart of the evacuated city and into safety. Separated from his group, Harry has no choice but to trust and follow.Follow the journey of Tara and Harry that begins with a grip on his wrist and could possibly end with a deadly grip on his heart and life.(this is a romance but I SUCK at descriptions)





	1. Chapter One

Harry

It had been a long time since I had seen the sky and it hadn't dawned on me until I glanced at the calendar this morning. It was a full moon tonight, June 9th. We were supposed to leave the states in the middle of March after a quick trip promoting the new album. Sales hadn't been too good in America and we were told to do PR and boost them. I don't mind PR; really, I don't. The interviews may get boring and repetitive and the financial meetings in tow take five years off my life every time the sales representatives say that "we're already doing so well, so why settle for stars when we can have the moon". But this PR round would be different.

Russia and the United States had been bumping uglies for quite some time. Back in January, Russia had plans to destabilize the West, causing them and the United States to become cramped in terms of international waters and air space. A slight miscalculation in a shot from a pilot could end in war. But Russians aren't that petty and incapable of sharing. It was the fighting in Syria that set it off. Russia supported the Assad regime while US planes were dropping bombs on ISIS. Once the United States decided to take military action against the Assad regime in an attempt to level the playing field after a chemical attack on Syrians, something in people snapped. A group formed, calling themselves The Containers. They were a group of people who felt very strongly that something had to change with the United States. Basically an "I Hate America" group. No one took it seriously. It started in Russia and news traveled to Germany. From there it swept up Greece and Hungary and Turkey. It took Europe by storm. Luckily it never made it to the UK. The UK remained neutral, as did good old Switzerland. But the Containers began attacking while making claims that they had to contain those that jeopardized the peace of others; AKA the United States. They declared war on February 12th, 2017. The attacks on US soil began on March 10th, 2017; two days before we were supposed to leave. They're here now.

We were stuck in the states in a quarantined area just outside of New York City. Low profile. In a bubble. A bomb shelter. Underground. They had begun popping up in early March as people knew what was coming. It was high security and in the almost-month that we had been placed here there had been attacks nearby; we could hear them at night and the ground above shook with aftermath. We had been in here for nearly 3 months. Three months without the sky or fresh air. The shelter was more of a basement than a bomb shelter.

The first was in California. A bomb had been dropped in the middle of Hollywood. Followed by another. There had been no warning. The casualties were too great to put a number, too. That's when every big city was given alarms like those they used in World War II. The big sirens that, when something unregistered showed up on the air radar, would wail and alert those nearby to get underground. They began evacuating cities slowly. Moving them to the south where it was safer. The next attack was in Denver, another major city. The cities were evacuated quickly after that and Russia found out. They began bombing randomly and had sent over troops. We formed our own troops. We stuck to south, they slowly took charge of the north. It was a war zone. It was hard to tell who was an American soldier and who wasn't until they opened their mouths. It was a nightmare and I wasn't able to wake up. We were in the enemy's territory.

I remember calling my mum over a radio, telling her I was alright. Each of us called our families, giving each other privacy in doing so. My throat began to close and feel scratchy when I realized I probably wouldn't see her for quite a few months. Planes were not allowed in or out of the states. Boats were too dangerous with Russian submarines in the oceans surrounding the country. She sounded scared and her voice wobbled. She realized it, too.

We were told that there were people working back in the UK to get us out.

"That's BULLSHIT," Zayn said, his voice rising. "That's bullshit that they're working to get us out and nobody else."

Zayn looked tired. Bags under his eyes showed that he hadn't slept much in the past week with the knowledge of the increase in attacks the past few days.

"They can't help everyone, Zayn." Al was sitting on a crate next to the radio, staying in contact with those overseas working to smuggle us out. He was a PR representative that had followed us to America. He called himself our coach even though he was far from a team player. "We're doing the best we can."

"What makes us so much better than anyone else?" Liam looked up from his spot on his crate and made dark eye contact with Al as he asked the question.

"Go on, Al. Say it," Louis said with his arms crossed from across the bunker. "Say that it's because we have money. Say that it's because we make you money."

"Louis," Liam warned.

"Ay! No, let him talk," Niall piped up from next to me.

Louis and Al began bickering as Liam tried to calm them down and Zayn tried to rile them up.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see that it belonged to Niall.

"You alright, buddy? Been awful quiet over here."

I laughed bitterly.

"Been a bit better, Niall." I glanced up at the roof of the bunker and bit my lip as I slammed my fist on the table next to me. "I'm fucking sick of this. This is a fucking nightmare that we wouldn't be stuck in had it not been for management and their greed."

"I know, man. I feel the same way but we'll get ou-."

"We're stuck here. We're stuck here and we have enough food for thirty people for a year and there are eight of us. Eight. People are starving out there without an underground shelter and we're living it up in here. How did we snag this shelter with a notice of three days? Do you ever wonder that, Niall?" I hadn't realized my voice had risen to a volume that made the others bickering across the room stop and listen.

"He's right," Liam said.

"And how did we get this bunker on such short notice, Al?" Louis stood up and walked over so he was standing over the 47 year old man. Had he stood up as well, he would only reach Louis' nose. While Louis had a height advantage, Al had a weight advantage as he was overweight, claiming he was losing it but the weight loss was probably a result of his black hair falling out from stress.

Al avoids Louis' eyes and sighs.

"We arranged to have one set up just in case."

Zayn splutters.

"So you mean to tell us that you knew how dangerous it was here and yet you still send us here to make you money?" Zayn is standing up now, pacing. "You put this place on reserve? These aren't fucking seats at a show we're talking about here. This is a shelter that, by the looks of it, is built for much more than eight people." He gestures around to the six of us and towards one of the linking rooms where Paul and Rick are, two bodyguards that joined us on the trip. I wonder if they knew of this, too.

"We are sitting here living in luxury and there are people out there who have nothing. This is a dystopia, Al. A fucking dystopia. People are dying out there and we're-."

"ENOUGH!" Al jumps up. "I made a mistake. People make mistakes. But I don't see any of you walking out and offering your spots to anyone up there. If you'd like to, be my fucking guest." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled wad of paper. He throws it at the ground and it rolls to my feet.

"Safe zones," he says. "Not guaranteed. Also not my fucking problem. Find your basket cases. See if I give a shit. But if you go up there, don't hold me accountable when you're slaughtered."

Nobody moved. The den was eerily silent.

"That's what I thought." He stalked out of the room.

"You alright, mate?" Liam walked over, patting my knee as he sat on my other side.

"'m fine." I mumbled. I wasn't fine. I couldn't be stuck in here much longer.

"More bullshit," Louis said.

"I can't stay cooped up in here."

"We have to stay cooped up in here. Do you want to die, Harry?"

"No. But I don't really think this is living, Louis."

...

Night had fallen. At least we were told it had. There were no windows but there were clocks. I glanced around the room. Two sets of bunkbeds on every wall except the one with the archway that led to another room. Crates for sitting. The radio. The fucking clock. If you walked through the archway there was another room that was similar and then another archway that led to the room with food. There was a small bathroom in the corner with a shower and toilet combo that ran on well water with a sink next to it. Privacy wasn't an option when there was only a thin curtain that shielded you from others' view. The ladder to the door that led outside was in the other room with the bunkbeds. So close and yet so far. As far as bunkers go, this was a mansion. It could comfortably fit 20 and easily feed 30 and there were eight.

Louis was on the top bunk of a bed snoring and Liam was underneath with a pillow over his head, having fallen asleep while trying to block out Louis' noise. Zayn and Niall were on the adjacent one, both sleeping. Al had Rick on the top of his and Paul was below me.

These were the people that I was trapped in a bunker with. I can't complain being that most were like my family.

Family. I wasn't sure when I was going to see mine again. I know the guys thought the same thing. We didn't know when we would see daylight. When we would stop hearing bombings and marching footsteps. When we would see another face besides the grimy ones of each other.

Suddenly I couldn't breathe. It felt like the air in the room had been sucked out and I was gasping. I'm not claustrophobic. I'm merely panicked at the thought of being stuck here for another day.

I look down at the floor below me and see the crumbled ball of paper that Al had previously thrown. Safe zones.

I silently climbed down the ladder, careful not to wake Paul. I threw a glance at the clock. 2:39AM. I grabbed the paper and memorized every detail, making mental notes. I pictured every twist and turn of the streets. Where I could and couldn't go.

20 minutes. All I needed was 20 minutes. There and back.

To run and stretch my legs. To breathe. To see sunlight.

I needed to see the sky.


	2. Chapter Two

Harry

When I was younger, I had auditioned for the school play, Oliver!. I was nine and excited and nearly sure I would get the leading role of the orphan boy. My mother must've been driven crazy with my endless renditions and practicing of "Who Will Buy." I reeked of confidence when I walked out onto the stage and thought that there was no way they could say no to me. But I didn't get the part. I didn't even get ensemble. I was crushed. I cried the whole way home and went straight to my room. I didn't eat dinner that night even after my mom had made my favorite meal at the time, mac n' cheese with cut up hot dogs.

She came up about an hour and a half later. She knocked lightly on my door, using only one or two knuckles.

"Harry?" She said it quietly, not quite whispering but not quite speaking at a normal volume either.

"Mmpf," I grunted in reply.

"Can I come in?"

"I guess."

She slowly opened the door to reveal her wearing her reading glasses around her neck and holding a plate of microwaved food leftover from the dinner I hadn't eaten.  
"I thought you'd be hungry."

"And I thought that I would've been Oliver." I crossed my arms over my chest and sniffed.

"I know you did."

"Singing is stupid anyway."

"Now don't say that."

"They gave the part to Tyler! Tyler isn't even in the school chorus! They only gave it to him because he was blonde," I spit out. "It's not fair, Mum!"

"I know it's not. But I'll let you in on a little secret." She looked around as if to make sure that no one was listening and then leaned in closer to me. "Life isn't fair," she whispered.

I groaned. This wasn't the first time she had told me this. I thought a lot of things weren't fair at that age. Like how Gemma was able to go on certain rides that I was too short for or how my cousin, Grant, was able to have extra dessert when I wasn't.

"Everything happens for a reason, Harry."

"Okay and?"

"And when God shuts a door he opens a window."

I think about that moment a lot. Whenever a door was shut on me, I'd hear my mother's voice telling me to look for a window.

The literal door may have been shut on the bunker, but I had just found a piece of paper that had been a window in disguise.

I glanced at the clock. 7:36AM. If there was a time to do this, now was it.

No one would wake up for a while. With no windows or sources of natural light in the bunker, you had no way of knowing when it was morning. Sometimes we slept until 2PM without realizing it, which was normal for Niall but late for everyone else.

I slowly crept down the ladder of my bunk where I had been waiting for the last five and a half hours. It was hard to keep quiet as my whole body was shaking with vibrating anticipation. I couldn't wake Paul or Rick or Al. I couldn't wake the other boys. That part was the hardest. Not in terms of how heavy they slept, but in the sense that I felt guilty taking this chance and not letting them bask in the sky's light with me. I owed them everything. But it was too risky.   
I listened to the sounds of everyone's breathing and strained to make sure there were no heavy footsteps on the ground above.

I quickly pulled off the shirt I had been sleeping in and pulled on a plain black t-shirt and black skinny jeans. I silently cursed at myself for not bringing something easier to run in, but then again I wasn't exactly aware that I would later be in this position when I had packed. Thinking about the temperature outside in the early morning, I pulled on a maroon crew neck sweatshirt over my t-shirt. I slipped on a pair of socks and quickly tied my white chucks. I ran my fingers through my hair, making myself look presentable for who I wasn't sure. There was nobody up there.

I creeped into the next room with the ladder up to the door that led outside. I wiped my hands on my jeans, removing the nervous sweat that had begun to form. This was it.

I took a glance back at the boys. 20 minutes and I would be back. Nobody would know but me and the sun.

I started climbing.

I strained to remember if the door creaked or created an air pocket but I couldn't.

I got to the top and reached up, slowly turning the lock on the round iron door. I imagined it looked somewhat like a manhole from the outside.

The locked clicked, a large bang of metal on metal sounded and I froze. I listened to it echo and waited for someone to stir and realize I was gone. I held my breath. I heard nothing.

I slowly pushed the door up, making sure to avoid any creaking. I pushed it open the last bit and quickly climbed out onto the hill. I stood on the ground and slowly and silently closed the door behind me. Then I collapsed.

I collapsed on the grass, feeling it wet with dew beneath me. I took a deep breath, not daring to open my eyes yet and see what I had come here for. I reached my arms out on either side of me, almost setting myself up for a grassy snow angel. I grasped the grass in my fists, pulling out a few pieces. I took another breath, smelling the trees and faint aroma of flowers that the light breeze carried. There was the slightest chill in the air. Not enough that I necessarily needed my sweatshirt but enough that I was glad I had it with me.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to open my eyes. I prayed that the sky hadn't turned gray with sadness and violence from the what the country had turned into.   
I gasped.

The sky was a bright blue. I wasn't sure if it was extremely prominent today or if my memory of it had just faded. The sun was an orange circle just above the horizon and the clouds were gently swept across the sky.

I propped myself up on my elbows and stared for another 10 minutes. Taking everything in. Relaxing. Breathing. I blinked and shook my head. I had just used up 10 minutes of my time, leaving me only with another 10.

I quickly stood up and looked around for the direction of the city. A 15 minute walk? We weren't as close as I had thought. I needed more time. Could I stretch it out to an hour? I think I could manage. The boys should still be sleeping.

With the map of safe zones on my mind, I began walking.

My back and knees cracked and my shoulders ached. I stretched as I walked as to not stop and waste more time. Taking in my surroundings as I moved, I realized the world did look sadder. The sky might've been blue but everything seemed to have a nearly gray filter over it. I began jogging until I saw the beginning of the city. I was now on the empty streets. The traffic lights had no power, giving me a chill at the creepiness of it. If they didn't have power then surely the city didn't either.

I made a left and continued jogging. I was in the city and suddenly I stopped. This was not the city we had left behind when we went into the bunker. Garbage littered the streets. Cars were overturned. Gravel was kicked up everywhere and there were fires burning in trashcans. It looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie. Graffiti littered the walls of buildings and everything had somehow turned a miserable gray. The bright lights of signs and billboards were off and the LED boards that usually displayed information about shows and stores were powerless and blank. This was not what I expected nor what I wanted to see. Everything was eerily quiet except for the crackling of the fires. It was clear that Containers had been here and I didn't want to stick around and find out if they still were. I needed to keep moving. I had just over half an hour left in the time I had budgeted for myself.

But had it been a left or a right to continue in the risky safe zone? Was I supposed to turn here or further up? Was I even in a safe zone now?

The map had vanished from my mind. The twists and turns I thought I had known so well were now replaced with question marks and panic. My heart began racing. I took a breath.  
I had already accomplished what I came up here for. I could turn back.  
I had overestimated my ability to memorize a fucking map but I was in good shape. I could get back to the bunker in 10 minutes tops if I sprinted, which I would. So I did.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry and I internally pat myself on the back for all the early morning and post-show runs I had been going on. I was careful to avoid any overturned pieces of road or anything that would make me trip and create noise.

I ran back up the grassy hill to the hell hole and yanked on the door, no longer caring about waking the others when I was out in the open.

But the door didn't budge.

I raised my fist to pound on the metal when I heard it. Heard them.

They hadn't left the city after all.


	3. Chapter Three

Harry

The marching grew louder and those who were once news we discussed in the bunker were now actual people a couple of feet away.

Do I bang on the door? Will the sound alert the troops? If it did, I would potentially lead them right to the other's demise. I thought of the boys sleeping below, unaware that I had even mustered up courage and stepped outside of the shelter. I couldn't do this to them.

Run.

The thought echoed through my head. I whirled around and began sprinting down the hill. I glanced down the street. They were coming up on 350 feet away. If I crossed the road, they would see me. If I didn't, they would see me. Might as well give them a run for their money.

I ran across the street, praying that the 20 men somehow all managed to look away at the moment I did.

"AY!" They didn't.

I heard a slur of Russian commands but didn't stop running. The footsteps grew faster and heavier as they ran to keep up with me.

"Poymay yego!!" I didn't speak Russian.

I was 21. I shouldn't be running from a reincarnated Russian mafia in the middle of June. I should be at a beach or the movies or a bar. I shouldn't have to worry about the fact that I could die within the next five minutes.

I found myself running in the direction of the square where I had just previously been. I had managed to lose the men when I had made a quick left and then a right, but I could still hear them. They were getting closer. I reached the center and stopped abruptly. I didn't need to run further to know that there was nothing beyond my sight that could help me now.

"Stop!" I knew what that meant. Nope.

I was frozen in my tracks. Any second now. I heard my mother's voice saying to look for a window but perhaps God had other plans for me. Perhaps everyone only gets a limited number of windows and I reached mine.

Suddenly a flash of red flew by in my peripheral vision and I felt a grasp on my wrist as the red flash had moved in front of me. My legs began moving before I could fully register what was happening. Everything seemed to be a blur and it was then that I realized that I was running.

I kept my sight fixed on the figure in front of me and realized that the flash of red I had seen was a girl.

The head in front of me turned around and I was met with a pair of wide and frantic eyes.

"Come on!" Her voice reached my ears as she yelled, looking back at me. "Do you want to live or not?!" She looked forward again, avoiding every hazard in her path with ease.

I grabbed onto her wrist and lower forearm as my hand engulfed her smaller one.

"Who are you?" I yelled back at her, now finding the will to run and keep up. I could easily outrun her with my longer legs but I didn't know where we were going. I was also tripping over every hazard in our path.

She looked back at me but instead of meeting my eyes, she looked past and behind me.

"Not the time!"

I glanced behind me and saw the men, having found us.

"Vzyat' ikh! Poluchite ikh oboikh!" What?

I looked forward again and continued matching my stride with her's. She frantically looked around as she ran. I was panting and my chest was starting to ache.

"Where are we going?" I yelled so she could hear me over the commotion.

She didn't answer.

We ran for another 45 seconds before she quickly veered right without any warning and I stumbled to follow after her.

"Down here!"

We ran down the steps to the subway and sprinted across the platform. We slowed down and she bit her lip, scrunching her eyebrows, trying to figure out where to go next. She dropped my wrist and quickly paced the platform looking for somewhere to hide.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"Stop asking questions!" She answered quickly.

"I have a right to know what's going on!"

"What's going on is that someone thought it would be a good idea to alert Containers and then to stand in the middle of the freaking city looking like some kind of idiot."

"I was-."

"Vniz!"

"Crud," she said.

We both looked up at the stairs to see the shadows of the men running down. I did a quick scan.

"Here!" I grabbed her wrist, feeling her tightly grasp mine again, and pulled her to the turnstiles, careful not to run too fast and have her trip.

I broke our grasp and used my height to my advantage to jump over the metal bars. I looked back her on the other side.

"You need to climb over!" I said at a hushed volume.

"No, really?" She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, answered in an equally quiet voice. "I was planning on using my Metrocard!"

We heard the footsteps on the platform.

I rolled my eyes and held my hands out. "Hurry!"

She quickly climbed on top of the turnstile and grabbed my hands to steady herself as she jumped down.

"Let's go." I dropped her left one but kept hold of her right, now taking the lead. As we started running again, we turned the corner just as the troops' shadows bounced over the silver gates.

"стоп!" Jeez.

I dragged her to another set of stairs.

"We can't go up there," she said.

"Why not?"

"Do you really think they'd be stupid enough not to leave men up there in case we got out?"

"Fuck!" I whisper-shouted. She shot me a look.

More shouting came from behind us.

"Over here." I pulled her behind a staircase and into the shadows behind a pillar. I crouched down and pulled on her wrist so she would crouch down next to me. She dropped my hand and got low.

Some men ran past us as others stayed nearby, whipping their heads around to try and see where we went.

She started to wobble from her squatted position so I placed my hand on her shoulder as she placed the pads of the fingers of her right hand on my knee. I could feel her shaking and wondered if it was from exhaustion or fear. I held my breath and with a quick glance I could tell she was holding her's. Her lips were pressed into a line and her nails were beginning to dig into my leg.

"Kuda oni delis'? Nam nuzhno nayti ikh i privesti ikh v Kastil'." The girl began shaking more.

"What are they say-." She quickly put her left hand on my leg to keep her balance and covered my mouth with her right before I could finish whispering my question. She frantically shook her head, silently pleading with me to be quiet.

They began shining a flashlight behind trashcans and poles. They were walking closer to us. The girl shut her eyes tight and I tightened my grip on her shoulder. They were less than 10 feet from us now.

One of the men, who looked more to be a boy in his late teens, was walking closer to us with his flashlight. The girl was biting her lip again, her hand still over my mouth, afraid to move. He was about to turn and shine the light in our direction when there was a loud clang coming from further down the platform.

"Chto eto bylo?"

"Davayte iskat' tam." They all exchanged nods and ran past us, looking for the source of the noise.

We stayed silent, listening to the footsteps retreat. Even after the echos of their voices had stopped, we remained frozen. Slowly, the girl removed her hand from mouth, not looking at me but off to the side, concentrating on the silence around her. She unscrunched her eyebrows and stopped biting her lip.

"I think... I think we're alright," she said lowly. She slowly began to stand up and I followed suit. She looked the way the men had run and then creeped out of the shadows. She placed her hands on her hips and walked towards the stairs. I walked out from behind the pillar and stopped.

The light from the morning outside was streaming down the subway steps and illuminating her face. When it was relaxed, I could see that she looked to be about my age, possibly a year or two younger. The red I had seen before had been her hair, although now I saw that her hair wasn't as ginger as I had thought I'd seen. Yes, it was red, but not as red as Ed Sheeran's. Somewhere between that and a strawberry blonde. An auburn. The hair ended just above her middle back, with slight curls and waves. She had half of it up in a loose bun, the lower layers of it left down; a look I'm usually not a fan of but the ringlets that had fallen out and framed her face made me think otherwise this time. She was pale and had blue eyes that seemed to twinkle when the light hit them. She looked like she would come up to a little below my chin and I was leveled out at just over 6', meaning she was somewhere around 5'7" or 5'8". She had a nice figure, not too skinny, with some curves. She was sporting an outfit similar to mine, wearing a forest green crew neck that looked pretty worn and faded. It seemed to be a size too big but she compensated by rolling the sleeves up to her elbows although they kept falling down. She had on blue jeans rolled above the ankles and a pair of white tennis shoes. Her jeans had some rips in them although I don't think she bought them that way. Cute.

I looked up to meet her eyes and saw that she was giving me a once over, too. She met my eyes and the right side of her mouth lifted into a smirk.

"Done checking me out?" She asked.

"Are you?" I counter questioned. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"We need to get out of here before they come back." She still talked in a hushed tone that wasn't quite a whisper in order to avoid more unwanted attention from the others. Her voice was light even as she talked low.

I cleared my throat. "We can't go up this way. It's too close to where we came down."

She nodded her head, biting her lip again.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" She asked.

"Biting your lip."

"Why? Is it distracting?" She sarcastically asked while dragging out the last word and tilting her head to the side.

"No, but you'll get bruises if you bite too hard." She gave me a confused look and shook her head but stopped biting it.

"We can walk on the tracks. I'm assuming the power's been cut from the city so there's nothing to worry about." She nodded slowly as I said this, thinking over what I was saying and weighing our options. She nodded faster when I had finished explaining.

"Good idea."

"Wow. A compliment?"

"Wow. A sarcastic remark?" I chuckled and she offered a hint smiled before standing on the edge of the tracks.

I jumped down, losing my balance slightly. I used my hands to steady myself before standing up. I brushed them on my thighs and looked up. She was sitting on the edge of the tracks looking down at me.

"Someone's a little clumsy."

"Let's see you jump then."

She looked down at the tracks, contemplating how she was going to do this. She kicked her feet as they hung off the side off the platform.

"Um, do you... uh... want some help?"

"Don't be silly. I can jump myself."

"Yet you haven't." She pursed her lips.

I sighed and walked over so I was standing under her. I lifted my arms out and was able to reach the top the platform. She looked down at me.

"C'mon," I said.

"Fine, if you insist." I stood closer to the wall of the track, my hands hovering on either side of her waist.

"May I?"

"I suppose." I held her by the waist and stepped away from the wall, pulling her with me. I was able to get a good grip on her small waist and she quickly placed her hands on my shoulders as I pulled her down onto the tracks. We stumbled a little but didn't fall.

"Thanks."

"Yup." We released our holds on each other and began walking the opposite direction of the men.

We were silent for a couple of minutes, listening to the crunch of the gravel under our footsteps.

"I'm Harry." I saw her look up at me out of the corner of my eye as I said this. "Harry Styles."

"I know." I looked down at her. "I don't live under a rock."

"Ah. A fan?"

"Eh," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You're alright." I saw her trying to hide her smile. I chuckled again.

"Thank you."

"Yup." We continued walking in silence.

"You know, this would be around the time that you'd tell me your name." She smiled again.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know? Is there no mystery left in the world? Did it die with chivalry?"

"I think I was pretty chivalrous back there when I helped you off the platform."

"Touché." I laughed. We kept walking.

"Tara," she said after a couple of seconds. I looked down at her again. She looked up at me and offered a soft smile. I offered one back. "My name's Tara."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!   
> I know there's some Russian in here. I didn't put any translations because what they're saying wasn't very important, just general shoutings of "stop" and "catch him." There was one important line but what they said will be discussed in a later chapter.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A


	4. Chapter Four

Harry

"Tara," I mused. Her steps faltered slightly, probably a result of the dark tunnel and raised tracks. "Nice."

"What?"

"It's a nice name."

She looked up me, a confused look on her face. We had been walking for nearly 10 minutes now.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't know many people with that name." She smiled, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the tracks in front of her.

"Are you trying to make small talk with me while we're walking on powerless, grimy subway tracks in the middle of dystopian NYC in attempts to escape a group of eastern-European American-hating human beings?" I muffled my laugh, but she heard it and looked at me out of the corner of her eyes, smiling again.

I cleared my throat. "Uh... yeah, I guess I am."

"Charming."

"What have I missed in the last 3 months? What's been going on?" She stopped walking.

"You've been here for three months?!" She hastily whispered. It would've been a near-shout had we not been trying to be quiet.

"Yes?" It came out as a question.

"Where?"

"A bunker. On a hill just outside the city."

"Alone?"

"God, no. There were eight of us."

"Other people from the city?"

"Now who's asking all the questions?" She glared at me. "I wasn't alone. The lads and I were here promoting the new album when the first attack hit. We, along with a PR rep and two body guards, found a bomb shelter. Actually, found isn't really the word I would use. More like bought."

"You came to the US to boost your sales in the middle of a war? Sorry we weren't able to scavenge enough money to buy your album. And bought? Are you serious? You reserved a shelter that was meant for the people of the city?"

"You think we wanted to come here? We knew the reason. The boys and I protested. Louis even threw a glass of water in Al's face. It's like we're their slaves. And then Al goes and reserves a bomb shelter because he knew what we were doing was dangerous. He's a shitty person and he's fucking selfish. We didn't know he'd done that. Made it seem like we stumbled upon a free one and we were too bugged to think otherwise. Sprung it on us last night that he had bribed someone for it and that was the last straw for me. I hadn't talked to my mum in two months and I hadn't inhaled fresh air for three and I didn't want this life that revolves around money and publicity to make more money. It's fucking disgusting. So don't gang up on me for a decision I had no say in." I hadn't realized my voice had risen until I felt her hand brush my upper arm.

"I'm sorry," she quietly said.

I sighed and cleared my head.

"No, I'm sorry. I'd be upset, too, if I were you. At least we only took up one so people were able to inhabit the others."

"They're all empty."

"Empty?" She nodded.

"American troops came in and evacuated nearly everybody. There were a few people who stayed, but they never made it to shelters. The bad guys got their hands on the city map where they were all located within the city and raided them. Yours was outside the city, probably built by an out-of-city contractor, meaning you didn't make it onto the map. But everyone else was captured by The Tupperwares."

I chuckled. "The Tupperwares?"

"Tupperwares. Containers. Same thing." I laughed a little harder.

"So then what about you?" She dramatically swung her arms as she walked, walking on her toes in a carefree manner, looking as if she forgot what we were doing but I know she hadn't.

"What about me?" She asked.

"You're still here. So what's your story?"

She opened her mouth to begin talking and I heard them before she did. The footsteps on the tile were getting close and fast.

"Well, I was born on a cold Tuesday night in December-." I grabbed her right hand with my left and clamped my right hand over her mouth, silencing her and taking up most of the bottom half of her face while dragging her under the overhang of the platform. Her left hand instinctively flew up and latched onto my right foreman, about to pull off my hand when she finally heard them. She kept her hand on my arm, tightening her grip and widening her eyes. They were nearly standing on top of us and I pulled her hand to bring her closer, taking up the least amount of space as possible.

The lights from their flashlights bounced around the tunnel. I looked at Tara as she was looking up at the platform, listening to what they were saying. Up close, I was able to see that she had freckles across her cheeks and nose. I was tempted to gently tug on one of the ringlets that fell around her face and see if it bounced back up when I let go. Obviously I did no such thing.

"Oni, dolzhno byt', vernulis' na ulitsy."

"Okhvatyvayut severnuyu chast' goroda. Andres budet okhvatyvat' yug. Oni ne mogut bezhat' daleko. My privedem ikh k kastilu, kogda poymayem ikh"

"Da, ser."

After some mumbling, they jogged away and up the stairs, their voices fading. I looked down at Tara as her eyes returned from mine. I removed my hand from her mouth and she made a face while releasing her grip on my arm.

"Yuck." She said.

"Now we're even." I smirked. We both looked down. When I had pulled her closer, I hadn't realized that I had dropped her other hand and placed it on the small of her back while her hand had gripped my sweatshirt near my chest. We made eye contact again and she quickly let go and smoothed out the wrinkles from her grasp, breaking our gaze and pursing her lips. I dropped my hand from her back.

"Whoopsie. Sorry. My bad." She was shaking slightly.

"You alright?"

"Mhmm. Fine." I didn't believe her but dropped it.

"I think they gave up." She shook her head.

"No, they thought we got out. They're covering uptown and downtown. Looks like we're staying in midtown tonight. Somewhere close to here." I blinked at her.

"You speak Russian?" She scoffed.

"No, of course not. But you pick up some of the language when you've been around it for so long."

"Oh. How long is 'so long'?"

"I'll tell you my whole life story if you want but we need to find where we're staying tonight." She looked at her watch.

"What time is it?"

"11:00." The boys would be waking up soon. We started walking.

"I need to get back to my bunker. The boys will freak." She looked at me like I was stupid.

"We need to find somewhere safe to hide tonight. You're not going back there."

"I think I can make my own decisions."

"You'll die if you go back there. I saw you running. You came from that direction. They saw you over there. They'll watch for you over there. If you go back, they'll get you and the others."

"I have to."

"I'm not letting you." I stopped and looked at her. She stopped and crossed her arms. We stared at each other for a few moments, waiting to see who would break first. She sighed, dropping her arms and breaking eye contact.

"When people who don't know the city go off on their own, there's a much larger chance of them not coming back than there is of them safely returning. Even if you did know the city, it's still too dangerous and it's getting worse everyday. We can find some other way to get in contact with the guys. Just, please, don't go. There. I said please."

I looked at her but she avoided eye contact. I watched her twiddle her fingers and push up her sleeves again. I thought about the boys and how they'd be worried but then my thoughts shifted to Tara and how she had risked her life to save my ass, probably without thinking twice. I'd also have a hard time leaving and not knowing what had become of her.

"Okay. I'll stay. But only because you said please." I smirked. She smiled and finally looked up.

"Thank you."

"Let's go, T." I started walking.

"T? Are you kidding me? I don't think so."

"Worth a shot."

"Keep dreaming, H."

...

After 15 minutes, we decided to crawl back onto the platform and go back up to the city. I pulled myself up and then grabbed Tara's hands, this time without protest, and pulled her up. We then slowly walked up the steps.

"I'll walk up first and make sure the coast is clear," she whispered. "You stay here."

"No," I protested. "I'm looking. You stay here."

"Harry-." I was already walking up the steps. I crouched low and got to the final step. It was dead silent and I slowly stood up to look around. I didn't see anyone and motioned for Tara to follow. She was behind me and started to take another step forward when I reached my arm out and stopped her. She stopped and watched me as I craned my head to look around the rails of the stairs. I removed my arm and exhaled.

"We're good."

"Alright," she said, thinking. "So there are people that way," she pointed north, "and that way. Which means we should go with this way."

"Alright. Lead the way."

She walked in the direction she had said and I followed in tow.

"So, you have family here with you?" I asked.

"No." She said bluntly.

"Ah." Must be a touchy subject.

"Sorry," she said after a beat. "I just don't feel like talking about that right now."

"Understood."

"We need to find food for tonight." At the mention of eating, my stomach grumbled.

"Where are we supposed to find food? There's nobody here." She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a piece of yellow paper.

"Bunkers." She said. She pointed to circles with Xs on them. "These ones have already been raided for supplies. This one is the one I was heading towards before I found you. We can grab nonperishables from there and bring it with us to wherever we stay for the night."

"Sounds good. But why don't we just stay in a bunker? That seems like the easiest option."

"They know we're here and you thinking that that's the easiest option means that they'll have thought of that, too. They'll likely search all of them tonight after the sun goes down. We need to raid it and find somewhere else before the sun starts setting."

I stared at her, looking at how she got a crease in her forehead while scanning the map. Her eyes flashed up to mine.

"Is that alright with you?"

"You're asking me if I'm okay with the plan?"

"Yeah. I figured that, like, we need to work together now because, um, you have some good ideas, too?" She stumbled over her words.

"No, no. I mean, yeah. Yes. You're right. It's better to work together than to go out separate ways. And yeah, that works for me."

We walked a little longer, not really saying anything. We avoided flaming trash cans and overturned sidewalk. Tara kept looking at the signs on stores and I kept looking in abandoned cars for anything that could be of use. She put her hand on my arm and I turned to look at her.

"Wait here." She dropped her arm and jogged into a store.

"What are you doing?" She didn't answer. I heard a clang and a grunt come from inside. "Tara? You okay?" No response. I started to walk towards the store when she came out.

"What just happened?" She looked at me and then turned around, showing me a backpack on her back.

"Needed a pack for the food. Figured this shop would have one laying around. It's a mess in there. People must've been in a rush to get out. But I found this hanging in a back closet. Nothing useful in it though." She shrugged.

"And the clanging?" She held up her right hand which was wrapped in a gray t-shirt, some red seeping through.

"Jesus fuck, Tara. What did you do?" I made a move to grab her hand and see but she pulled away and rolled her eyes.

"Tripped and grabbed onto a metal shelf. Sliced my hand on the corner. I'm fine."

"But-."

"Chill. We gotta keep moving." Without another thought, she started walking again.

"I'm checking that out when we get settled. Need to make sure it's not infected. Not sure cutting your hand off would boost team moral." I said once I was next to her again. She rolled her eyes but still smiled.

"Alright, Florence Nightingale. Whatever you say."


	5. Chapter Five

Around 12:30, a blonde haired boy woke up in the bunker, needing to go to the bathroom. He looked around the small room to see if anyone might be currently using the curtained space in the next room. He noticed that Harry was no longer in his bunk and assumed he was using the toilet. He waited until he got back, giving him the little privacy he was able to offer in these cramped quarters. After nearly 10 minutes, Niall groaned and stood up from his bunk. He stretched, his back cracking. He walked into the other room and stood by the doorway.

"Harry? You alright in there, mate? Been in there awful long. Did ya eat the canned tuna? There's a reason we don't go near that shit." He laughed as he said it and someone stirred behind him.

"Niall, shut the fuck up. It's still dark out," Louis grumbled from behind him. "Fucking irishmen."

Niall laughed harder. "It's half past 12, you shit." Louis groaned.

He still hadn't heard a response from behind the curtain.

"I think Harry fell asleep on the toilet." Louis sat up in the top bunk as Niall said this, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling.

"Zayn's the one that falls asleep on the john, not Harry."

"Harry, I'm coming in." He moved the curtain out of the way and was met with an empty makeshift bathroom. "Uh... he's not here."

"What do you mean he's not there? Not a very big place, Ni. Look in the pantry."

Niall took a few steps and scanned the room with shelves of food.

"Not here." At this, Louis climbed down from his bunk, not caring if he made noise or not. He joined Niall's side.

"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself. "HARRY?" He yelled. There was no response. The others began waking up.

"What are you screaming for? Someone clog the toilet again? Al, we fucking told you to eat less shit to produce less shit." Zayn said, rubbing the sleep from his eye. Al groaned in response.

"Harry's not here," Niall said. "We can't find him." This caused Liam to sit up.

"You don't think he left the bunker, do you?" He asked. He glanced at the floor. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Paul asked.

"The piece of paper Al threw at us yesterday. The one with the safe places. It's gone and so is Harry."

"You really don't think he was stupid enough to leave, do you?" Niall asked.

"Of course he did," Zayn answered. "He's not fucking here so he's obviously out there."

"We need to get him," Louis said. "We can't leave him-." He was interrupted by the sounds of gunfire outside. Everyone was silent.

"No one's going out there. Not now. The kid's smart. He can hold out for a little bit. He wouldn't want any of you coming after him if he was in trouble." Rick whispered.

"What about food? Water? What if he gets hurt? Where will he stay?" Liam frantically asked questions, usually the worrier of the group but this time he wasn't the only one.

"If he tries coming back, we'll be ready for him. We'll let him in. But those gunshots have me thinking he won't, at least not for a day or two. He'll find his way back."

"He's out there alone," Niall said. "What if he doesn't-."

"He will, Niall," Louis said. He turned to face Al. "Awfully quiet over there, aren't we? Guilt eating you alive?"

"I didn't do anything." Louis opened his mouth to give a witty comeback, but decided to save his energy and close it.

"I'm going to punch this guy. I swear to Lucifer, I will." Zayn mumbled.

"I think you mean God." Liam corrected. Zayn laughed.

"Not where he's going, I don't."

...

Harry

"I feel like we've been walking for hours." I moaned.

"One. We've been walking for one hour," she answered with a light laugh. "It's only 1:15."

I groaned. The sun was high in the sky now, meaning the temperature had risen. It had to be around 85°. I dramatically dragged my feet and slumped over as I walked.

"It's getting hot." I said.

"Indeed it is." She answered. She stopped walking and slung her knapsack onto the sidewalk.

"What're you doing?" I stopped beside her.

"Trying not to sweat out all the water I have in my body and become dehydrated." She began taking off her sweatshirt. "I suggest you do the same. But only if you have a shirt on underneath, of course."

"Don't want me walking around shirtless?" She shrugged.

"You can if you want but when you get sunburn I'm giving you a big five star on your back. My handprint would make a nice accessory to any outfit." I laughed and she smiled.

"So t-shirt it is." I quickly slipped off my sweatshirt, revealing the black t-shirt I had underneath. I looked back at her as she struggled to take off her sweatshirt with one hand, the other wrapped still wrapped in a t-shirt from when she cut it earlier. I was about to ask if she needed help when she cut me off.

"I know you're going to ask. I'm fine." After another few seconds, she had successfully maneuvered around the t-shirt and slipped off the sweatshirt, the t-shirt she was wearing riding up slightly in the process and revealing a sliver of the pale skin on her torso. She pulled down the blue v-neck and then rolled her sweatshirt up in a ball to throw into the bag.

"Here, let me." I said, taking her sweatshirt and throwing it in along with mine. As I grabbed it, I looked at the t-shirt she was holding. I knelt on one knee and stuffed the sweatshirts into the bag. I looked up at her.

"You probably don't need that much fabric," I said. "And it's probably stopped bleeding, but you still need to cover it. Let me see it." I held out my hand and waited for her protests. She looked at her hand, then back at me, narrowing her eyes. Silently she lifted the injured hand towards me. I raised my eyebrows, surprised she had no comments, but took her hand. I unwrapped the t-shirt to reveal the cut. It looked a little deep and ran diagonally across her palm, an angry red. I gently ran my fingers over it and her hand flinched a little bit at the contact. I looked up at her. "It might scar."

She sniffed and wiped an invisible tear with her other hand. "There goes my career as a hand model." I smiled. "I needed some more scars on me anyway. They make for good stories."

"Good stories?"

"Yeah, you can make up different stories about how you got them and no one would know the difference."

"What'll you say about this one?" She squinted her eyes, thinking.

"Lumberjack accident." I laughed loudly, waiting for her to reprimand me but she joined in at the same volume.

"Very believable."

"Right? Took an axe right to the palm."

"So committed to your work."

"It's hard to find good lumberjacks these days." I took the thin t-shirt and began ripping it into strips. I wrapped the smaller pieces around her palm, covering the gash. I tied the strips together so they wouldn't come undone and discarded the rest of the t-shirt on the sidewalk. It looked less bulky and she could do much more with it. "The only concern I have is that the keeps lifting up." I gestured to the fabric edges wrapped around her wrist and, to prove my point, showed how easily they untangled. She nodded and reached up with her other hand to grip the bun on top of her head. She wiggled it a little bit until she was able to take out the hair tie holding it in place. The bun unraveled and joined the rest of the hair that was already down, naturally parting to the right.

"Use this." I grabbed the band.

"Good thinking." She smiled. I slipped it onto her wrist, holding the fabric in place.

"All done." I stood up and flipped her hand over a few times, making sure I had covered all of the cut.

"What? You're not going to kiss it better?" I laughed and overly puckered my lips, leaning down slowly. She snatched her hand away, laughing.

"Ew. Gross."

"I'm hurt."

"Poor baby." She bent down and began zipping the backpack up.

"So you have any other scars?" She nodded. "Where?" I asked. She looked up at me from where she was squatting on the ground.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"That's why I asked." She stood up, slinging the pack back onto her shoulders.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." She began walking away. I stood still, watching her.

"So I get to find out?" I called after her.

She didn't stop or turn around, but I heard her laugh as she waved her arm back at me signaling for me to shut up. I smiled even though she couldn't see and started walking forward, only a smirk remaining when I caught up to her.

...

Sometime around 2:00, Tara glanced at the paper and then looked around.

"It should be right around here. Keep your eyes open for it."

"I still don't understand how you build a bomb shelter in the middle of the city with all the traffic." She rolled her eyes as I said this.

"They don't build it in the middle of the street. They build them in alleys or on the sidewalk." As she said this she glanced in an alleyway but shook her head and kept walking. "I'm sure there are some on the street but I think they're more common uptown."

"They probably have a beautiful view of Central Park." I said sarcastically.

"They're living the good life." She replied.

She stopped to look in another alley but had the same result. She groaned. I smirked and looked further ahead on the sidewalk. I saw something that looked like silver manhole glint in the sun.

"There." I pointed. She followed my finger and smiled.

"Yes!" She jogged over to it and knelt down, pulling up the handle. She yanked open the door, revealing a ladder that led down.

"Pretty dark down there," I said. "How are you going to see?"

"Each bunker comes with a little generator. Since they've hardly been used, there's probably still some juice left in it."

I nodded. "Noted."

She looked around the streets.

"One of us should stay up here and keep watch."

"I'll stay. You go down and do your thing." She gave me a thumbs up and shrugged off her backpack, taking the sweatshirts out.

"Hold these," she said while tossing them at me. "There needs to be room in the bag for food."

I gave her a salute and she smiled.

"Yell if you need anything." I said. She saluted me back and crawled down the hole, fading into the darkness. I heard the sound of her hands meeting the metal as she climbed and then heard her jump to the bottom.

"Ugh, it reeks down here. It must be a septic backup from a toilet that wasn't connected to plumbing," she said. I wrinkled my nose at the thought. "Toss me down a sweatshirt so I can cover my nose. I'm wearing a v-neck." I tossed her down her sweatshirt and heard her grunt as she caught it. It went silent for a few seconds before I heard a click and then saw a faint light illuminate the entryway. Once I knew she could see, I looked at the streets.

I began to wonder about the people who had lived here. Where were they? Had they safely made it to the south? Were they captured? Killed? It was eerily quiet and I hadn't noticed because Tara and I had spoken for most of the walk. A city that once thrived with life had become a ghost town in an incredibly short amount of time.

I turned my head when I heard the ladder creak and looked down to see Tara climbing back up. She had put the sweatshirt on and had the neck of it covering her mouth and nose. She held on to the ladder with one hand and pulled the sweatshirt down with the other, taking in a breath of air.

"Here," she said while holding out something wrapped in shiny foil. Her fingers poked out of the sleeves of the crewneck as she offered me the item.

"What is it?" I asked while taking them. She lifted her arm into the air and shook it, causing the sleeve to roll back down to her elbows. She switched hands on the ladder and did the same with the other arm.

"Saltines." I gave her a confused look. "I can hear your stomach grumbling from down there." I smirked.

"Thank you." I began opening the package while she rested her elbows on the sidewalk, the rest of her body still on the ladder.

"You know, my mom used to give me these whenever I was upset." She raised an eyebrow at me and rested her head in one of her hands.

"Why?"

"I just loved saltines. I would go through a whole sleeve in one sitting sometimes. I think it was just a familiarity thing. Just made me feel better." I gave her a confused look. "Don't know why I just told you that." She smirked and I shrugged. "Well, now you know." I took the first cracker and popped it into my mouth. She looked at me, gaping.

"Maybe I wanted the first one." I swallowed and offered her one.

"Forgive me." She gave me a fake grimace.

"No, no. I don't want your comfort crackers." She said laughing and waving her hand. I shrugged again and ate it.

"Are you coming back up?" I asked, my mouth still full of cracker.

"Not yet. This is a deep one so I'm going to walk further and see if there's anything else I can scavenge." She looked down at her fingers. "It's a mess down there. I think there were people staying here when they raided it." She said quietly.

"So they're still doing sweeps regularly to look for civilians." I said. It didn't come out as a question, it was more of a statement. She nodded.

"Yeah. We should hurry." She took a deep breath and shook it off. "Or at least I should. Alright. I'm going back in. I shouldn't be more than a few minutes." I nodded as she put the sweatshirt back over her nose and climbed back down.

I put another saltine in my mouth a chewed on it. Thinking of my mother, wondering what she was doing. I know she was safe as this war didn't affect those in the UK, but I wondered if she was happy. Was she worried about me? Was she finding her own windows to happiness? I swallowed the dry cracker and threw on my sweatshirt so I wouldn't have to carry it. I could take a little more heat. I stuffed the package of remaining crackers into my pocket and wiped the crumbs around my mouth.

That's when Tara screamed. A bone-chilling, blood-curdling shriek.

"TARA?" I yelled down. There was no response and I was halfway down the ladder in two seconds. I jumped the rest of the way and stumbled as I took off running immediately. She had her back to me and didn't turn around at my presence. I did a quick scan, seeing no threats in the room, and then returned my eyes to her. The pack was on the floor next to her and her outline shook as she was trembling. I quickly walked in front of her, gripping my hands on her shoulders and bending down so I was at eye level with her.

"Tara, what is it?" I whispered. The sweatshirt had fallen from her face, now replaced by her hands cupped around her mouth and nose. I looked into her eyes and saw them brimming with shock and tears. She remained frozen, her eyes not meeting mine, instead looking past me. I gently shook her shoulders, trying to gain her attention. "Tara, look at me." Her eyes flashed to mine and then back to their original spot. I looked at her, confused, before turning my head and following her stare. At first I didn't see anything, but then I shifted my glance. I took in a sharp breath and jumped, gripping Tara's shoulders tighter and spinning us so I was now facing it and she had her back to it, no longer able to look. She began squirming and tried turning back around but I held her firm.

"No, don't look." My voice was hoarse. I released the hold on her shoulders and placed one hand on the back of her head and moved the other to the center of her back, holding her to my chest. I felt her stop resisting and her muscles relaxed.

The body of a boy our age was on the floor, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Blood had matted his black hair to his head, his brown eyes remained open and staring at the ceiling. A puddle of blood surrounded him as he lay with his limbs bent at awkward angles. His skin had turned a ghostly white. The smell of his decaying body wafted towards my nostrils and I bent my head down, burying my nose in Tara's hair to avoid smelling it.

"Jesus fucking Christ." I whispered. I felt Tara's hands come up to grasp my sweatshirt like she had done earlier, and I instinctively adjusted my hand's placement on her back and held her tighter to my body. My own eyes burned with the forming of tears, from sadness and the smell, but I blinked them back.

I stared at the body, unable to look away. Were there others? Had he struggled? Had they killed him for sport? To send a message? How long ago had this happened? If I could guess, I would say between a week and five days ago. I had forgotten that we were in the middle of a war zone. This was not a game and when you died you didn't have infinite lives. This was it. When you're gone you're gone.

I felt my sweatshirt getting wet and knew it was Tara's silent tears leaking through. I hadn't realized that I was subconsciously rubbing her back and returned my hands to her shoulders, lightly pushing her away a few inches so I could look at her face. She kept my sweatshirt in her shaking grip. I opened my mouth to say something to her but when she looked at me I had lost any words I had planned on saying. For the first time today, I saw that she didn't know what to do. The tough exterior she usually wore was replaced by streaking tears and a wet face. She expressed a vulnerability that rendered me speechless.

The lights above us flickered and I was brought back to reality. I gently tightened my grasp on her shoulders and made hard eye contact.

"Tara, we need to get out of here," I said firmly. I glanced at the boy behind her. "It's not safe."

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, searching for words. She let go of my crewneck and used her sleeved fists to wipe her face, but another two tears fell immediately after. Her eyes explored my face for answers to questions I didn't know.

"B-but we can't leave him like-." She cut herself off and began turning her head to the left to look at the body, but I cupped her face with my right hand and stopped her.

"I won't."

She let out a whimper, almost so quiet that I nearly missed it. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she bit her lip, blinking quickly to try and get rid of them. I could see her walls reforming and I took advantage of the vulnerability that was left, for her sake. I re-gripped her shoulders and began slowly walking backwards, pulling her with me and making sure she kept her glance forward. I hadn't realized I was also shaking with shock until she lightly placed her right hand on my upper left arm and gave it a gentle yet reassuring squeeze, never breaking eye contact or stopping her tentative steps. We stopped at the bottom of the ladder.

"You go up there and I'll do what I need to do down here. Alright?" She nodded and we removed our hold on each other.

Without another word, she walked past me and up the ladder. After making sure she had successfully pulled herself onto the pavement, I walked into the other room. I bent down next to the body and took a shuddering breath. With two fingers, I closed his open eyes. I stood up and took a bed sheet from one of the two sets of bunkbeds and draped it over him, making sure to cover the puddle of blood as well. I scanned the shelves and stuck a pack of matches in my pocket along with some batteries. A quick glance at the top shelf showed gauze and rubbing alcohol so I grabbed that, too. I walked over to where she had dropped the bag and picked it up, feeling it had a decent amount of food in it. I stuffed the first aid materials into the biggest compartment and zipped it shut, slinging it over my shoulder. I slowly walked towards the covered boy and crossed my hands in front of.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," I said. "I didn't know you, but I'm sure you didn't deserve this and one day you'll be given justice." My lips formed a tight line. "Rest easy."

I turned around and walked back towards the entryway, flicking off the generator and lights and climbing up the ladder. I looked up and saw Tara standing just beside the opening. She had her arms crossed and was looking down at her feet, her hair cascading like a waterfall and concealing her face. She looked down at me when she heard the creaking of the metal bars. Her red eyes searched my face, silently asking if I had done it. I nodded and she looked away. I pulled myself out of the hole, closing the silver door and standing on the sidewalk. I looked over at her but she was still looking down.

"Are you alright?" I asked slowly. I knew the time for physically consoling her was over and didn't know if I was crossing a line by bringing up what had just happened. But she slowly nodded.

"Yes," she quietly said. "Thank you."

"As long as you'll be okay." Her eyes met mine.

"I wasn't thanking you for asking me if I was okay."

"I know." We looked away and remained silent for a few moments.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the foiled package. The sound of the wrapper made Tara look over. I opened it and took out a cracker. I extended it towards her. She looked down at the cracker, then up at me. Her eyes scanned my face, looking for something. She slowly reached out and took it. I folded the foil in on itself and stuffed it back into my jeans. I looked at her hands, still holding the cracker. She broke it in half and held out her hand, offering me one of the pieces. We made eye contact and I took it. I held it out towards her and we gently tapped the two halves together in a mock-cheers. We placed the pieces in our mouths and slowly chewed.

One we had both swallowed, our glances met again in silent communication. She nodded her head and we started walking together, leaving behind the bunker and the boy, but taking the hitchhiking grief with us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So that was rough, but I felt that it was important to reemphasize the danger and seriousness of the situation they're in. I'm also slowly making the chapters longer so this won't be a 1,000 chapter long story.
> 
> Yay for comfort crackers.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -A

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is the first chapter. I'm not expecting it to get a lot of buzz.  
> Please help this story get noticed! It'll be more fun to write with input from you guys!
> 
> -A


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